George Martin - Busted flush

Bubbles looked around slowly. "If my government can't get by without harming children, maybe we need a new one."

Drake knew about Bubbles from TV and the Web. He started punching her with sharp jabs. Maybe it would help build up her energy a little, although she was really big already. It hurt his hands, though.

"You're making a life decision here, a mistake you won't be able to walk away from. The Committee means squat to me. If you cross us you will go down and it's going to hurt." Billy Ray grinned. It was the nastiest excuse for a smile Drake had ever seen.

Bubbles laughed. It wasn't a girly one like Drake expected, but more of a you-are-so-dead laugh, cold and brittle. He hadn't ever thought of Bubbles as scary, but he sure was glad she was on their side. For the moment, at least. "Really?" Bubbles said.

She turned sideways, holding one palm out toward Billy Ray and the curvy woman decked out in black leather, the other at Moon and her buddy. A torrent of small bubbles poured from her fingertips, like she'd dropped a hundred bags of golden marbles that moved in pools toward the government agents. It was a conservative move, just to keep them at a distance.

Billy Ray whispered something to the leather-clad woman next to him and patted her on the butt. A burning sword materialized in her hand and wings of flame sprouted from her back. She rose gracefully into the air, holding her flaming sword in a striking position, and flew toward them.

That was when every light in Cross Plains went out. All at once. An instant later they came on again. Some of the rides jerked to a sudden halt, while others began to speed up. The Tilt-A-Whirl was tilting and whirling madly, out of control, and shrieks were coming from the Ferris wheel. The lights went out again, on again. Shouts and screams echoed through Barbarian Days. Drake gave a quick backward glance and saw the giant dog waiting patiently on the edge of bubble carpet. The caped woman had vanished in the sudden chaos.

Bubbles tossed a couple of medium-sized missiles at the flame-winged woman, keeping her from closing in. Drake heard a gunshot from behind. It picked one of Niobe's kids off her shoulder, the dark blue one.

Niobe spun, slipped, and fell. Her momentum rolled her to the edge and two cops sprang from the crowd and grabbed her by the arms. One of the remaining kids, the really muscular one, started bouncing around like a rubber ball, pounding on the cops. The larger of the two policemen grabbed Niobe and twisted her arms behind her back.

Drake lost it. He was tired of being chased all over the Southwest and tired of getting pushed around. Crouching low, Drake launched himself across the bubbles, gliding on his belly to where the cops had Niobe.

The lights were going off and on, on and off. The rides had all gone crazy. People were running everywhere, knocking into each other. Bubbles hit the flying woman in the legs with a bubble, spinning her awkwardly in the air. Two more bubbles quickly followed; the first knocked the burning sword from her hand and the second caught her in the solar plexus, sending her to the ground. Down in flames.

The cops were too busy with Niobe to notice Drake, so he jumped the smaller of the pair and bit his ear. Hard. There was a crunching noise and a scream. A bit of flesh came off in his mouth. Drake felt a pair of hands rip him from the man's back and toss him to the ground. He got up as fast as his fat body allowed, spitting dust and blood. The shorter cop had a hand to his mangled ear, but his partner had drawn his pistol and pointed it at Drake's face.

"Go ahead," Drake said. "Try it and see what happens. The bullet will melt before it even gets to me."

A tiny spark of doubt crept into the cop's eyes, but he kept his gun leveled. "Get down on the ground, face-first."

Drake shook his head. "You've got three seconds to set down your guns. Otherwise, this town is going to end up just like Pyote." The memory made Drake sick inside, but he wasn't going to let it show. "They did tell you about me, right? Two seconds." His heart was jackhammering, but he wasn't afraid. "One second. Say good-bye."

The officers put their guns on the ground and exchanged frightened glances. Drake picked up one of the pistols and pointed it. He turned to Niobe. "Cuff them."

She looked at Drake like he'd transformed from a fat kid into a lion, but after fumbling for the cuffs, managed to get them snapped around the cops' wrists. "It's going to be okay," she said as the second of her kids joined them. He could tell from the expression on her face that Niobe was talking telepathically to her kids. It made him feel left out, but right now it was necessary.

Drake turned around to see how Bubbles was doing, just in time to see her turn to Billy Ray. "Next," she said.

Ray bellowed and launched himself at her, landing inside the bubble ring. He punched her several times, blows designed to kill or cripple. Bubbles swelled a bit and laughed. Snarling, Billy Ray dropped to his knees and grabbed a handful of dirt, flipping it into Bubbles's face in a single, swift motion. "Now," he yelled.

Bubbles wasn't entirely blinded and reacted faster than someone as big as her should have been able. She grabbed Billy Ray and rocked backward, pulling him on top of her. A large bubble formed between her and Billy Ray and she sent it, and him, rocketing into the air. Billy Ray exited the fight in a trail of expletives, some of which Drake had never heard before, as he was catapulted into the bumper cars. Runaway cars started banging into him, keeping him off balance. Niobe's other kid, Drake realized.

Then he saw someone out of the corner of his vision. The woman in the shiny cape moved purposefully through the now-thinning globular carpet toward Bubbles, and clamped her hands on her shoulders. Drake could tell it was hurting Bubbles, but he couldn't imagine how.

It didn't matter what he thought, though. It was happening and he had to do something about it. He still had the gun. His dad had taught him how to fire one, but if he used it he might kill someone. One thing Drake knew for sure, he never wanted to kill anyone again, in spite of what he'd said to the cops.

He remembered his sling. With all the practicing he'd done, anything within twenty-five yards was a hittable target. That put the caped woman right at the edge of his range.

Drake pulled out the sling and tightened the loop over his pudgy, sweating finger, then fished out a stone and placed it in the pouch. He whirled it in several rapidly accelerating circles, then let go. Drake didn't see where the stone went, but clearly he'd missed his target. Maybe by a lot. Bubbles was on one knee now and the caped woman still hadn't let go. Drake focused his breathing like his aunt Tammy, a yoga teacher in Austin, had taught him and visualized his rock taking the caped woman in the head. He wound up again and let fly.

There was a sound like a walnut being cracked open a couple of rooms away. The caped woman collapsed. Bubbles staggered back to her feet.

Drake pumped a fat fist, but his celebration lasted no more than an instant. The giant dog had its teeth in his cuff and was dragging him away. He punched at the dog's face, but his blow barely caught the snout. "Help!" he yelled. Niobe's acrobat kiddo leapt to his rescue and bounded around the dog, whaling on it with her tiny fists. The dog snapped at the kid, catching a leg. The dog snapped again. For a fraction of a second the kid was free; then the dog's teeth crashed down on her small chest with a crunch.

Drake looked into the dog's cold eyes, wanting to gouge them out with his bare hands, but the dog continued pulling him along the ground, keeping him off balance.

There was a flash of metal. The dog howled and let him go. Niobe was holding a long sword in her hands, cocked at her shoulder for another blow. The dog bared its teeth. Somewhere nearby, a car engine revved. The dog was turning its head when the truck slammed into it, sending the canine howling into a small knot of people.